


Joker's Trophy

by supremegreendragon



Series: Perfect [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Cameras, Daddy Kink, Dark, Fucking Machines, Hostage Situations, M/M, Praise Kink, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17188487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supremegreendragon/pseuds/supremegreendragon
Summary: The end to the Perfect series. Now that Joker knows who Batman is, he's planning on using that knowledge to his full advantage. Can Bruce defeat him? Multiple endings.





	1. Chapter 1

Bruce sat on the edge of his seat and tried not to squirm uncomfortably. The council member droned on and on about profit statistics, as well as the value of proper communication. In other words, this meeting was yet another waste of time concealed as something important.

 

“What do you propose, Mr. Wayne?” the head of the table, Mr. McCullen, asked.

 

No doubt the Joker was watching from somewhere, probably with binoculars in one hand and his exposed cock in the other. Maybe he was standing on top of the adjacent building and watching through the window. Blood rushed to Bruce’s ears at the very thought.

 

Suddenly, the toy’s vibrations intensified. Bruce had to suppress goosebumps from forming, or else everyone would see and wonder what was going on. His belly burned with repressed pleasure, threatening to turn his insides to fire.

 

But no matter how fast the toy went, no matter how much it stretched his tight hole, Bruce managed to keep a straight face.

 

“I think investing in….” he rambled on, as professional as always. No one in the room could guess that he was being pleasured right in front of them. He thanked heavens for his good acting abilities.

 

It turned out that Joker had a ton of kinks, all of which he insisted on pushing onto Bruce. There was the Daddy kink that had showed up first; Joker wasted no time in demanding to be called Daddy whenever they were alone. Some time after that, the Joker took a liking to exhibitionism. Today wasn’t the first time the clown had forced Bruce to use a toy in public. So far Bruce had managed to hide this from anybody, but he still felt the sting of shame at doing something so inappropriate. Another thing Joker had a fascination with was food porn. He liked hog tying Bruce somewhere seclusive, dabbing whip cream on top of his skin, and then licking it off.

 

Things like this would happen every single day now. Bruce felt dirty from the moment he woke up, to the time when sleep could take him away from this nightmare, if only for a few hours. Joker was no longer hurting him, but Bruce would take pain over unwanted pleasure any day.

 

Because this wasn’t love, no matter what the Joker tried to tell him. Joker was just using him. Bruce was nothing more than a trophy on a pedestal, and the clown was going to play with him until he got bored.

 

Then he would kill Bruce.

 

The toy switched from rubbing in circular motion to thrusting in and out. Bruce shuddered. He thought back to when this nightmare started. It happened a few days after the first time Joker had raped him.

 

_Joker had been causing havoc deliberately to get Batman’s attention. Batman had found out that the clown had planted bombs all over town, while handing out clues on where to find him. Batman had tracked him like a bloodhound ready to hunt. In the end, Batman had found the monster on top of an adult toy store, something Joker had no doubt planned on ahead of time. It was exactly the kind of sick joke that the clown was capable of._

_Batman still remembered how cold the night had been. Soft snow fell like falling stars, peppering Batman’s suit as stared Joker down. Joker approached Batman, the detonator in his hand behind his back. If Batman made a move, Joker would kill dozens with one press of a button._

_Joker’s smile had been different that night. Instead of being filled with malice, it had almost looked kind. It was as if Joker was an old friend who had dearly missed him._

_“Brucey. How are you feeling? I know I was a little rough on you our first time, but I promise next time I’ll be much more gentle.”_

_“There won’t be a next time,” Batman cracked his knuckles. He was ready to spill blood. The sight of the clown pissed him off like no other villain was capable of. This was especially true now that Joker had sealed that hatred forever. Batman would never forget that night. And he would never forgive Joker for the pain and humiliation he had caused._

_Joker chuckled, “Of course there will be. I know who you are. You don’t want to risk everyone suddenly knowing your biggest, darkest secret.”_

_“No one will believe you,” Batman’s eyes narrowed to slits._

_“Why would I lie?” Joker motioned like he was talking on the phone, “Hello, Commissioner Gordon? You won’t believe what I just found out about our favorite flying rodent. It turns out that the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne was the one fighting crime all along. Will you tell the press or shall I?”_

_“I have ways of protecting myself, you know?”_

_Joker frowned, “So you do,” the smile came back, even more sinister than before, “Alright, wise guy. I didn’t want to do this, but you left me no choice.”_

_He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket and pushed a button. Batman waited for him to follow through with his threat. But instead of using it to make a call, Joker put it on speaker. The voice that Batman heard chilled him to the core._

_“—should at least take my blindfold off. But I suppose I shouldn’t expect any manners from you gents.”_

_“Alfred!” Batman lost his composure. He didn’t risk coming any closer, yet his eyes were fixated on the phone in Joker’s hands._

_There was a pause. Then…_

_“Uh…Master Bruce?” Alfred’s voice sounded unsure._

_“Where are you?”_

_“I don’t know. They took me, Master Bruce. Several hours ago. I told them—” click. Joker put the phone back in his pocket. He smirked._

_“Well, you get the idea.”_

_Batman had never wanted to kill someone so much in his life._

_“I should also warn you that if I don’t call my men every hour, they have orders to kill him. So---”_

_The dark knight froze up once he realized that he was truly out of options. Joker’s eyes suddenly became serious._

_“I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to undress the next time we saw each other. So chop-chop. Oh! But keep the mask on, dollface. I fucked Bruce Wayne already. Now I wanna fuck Batman.”_

 

…And Bruce had been at his mercy ever since. Someone tossed a note his way, successfully distracting Bruce from his musings. ‘Professionals’ in a business meeting could act a lot like middle school students sometimes: passing notes, gossiping and sometimes even ratting each other out. He arched a brow at the lipstick print planted on the paper. Careful not to be seen, he unfolded the note and read.

 

It was a number. Bruce noticed Samantha Wheeler eyeing him. He offered her a soft smile. She was a very attracted woman in her late twenties, who dressed sharp and worked in the public relations department.

 

Bruce was already reciting in his head how to turn her down. Sorry Samantha. I keep work at work. Sorry Samantha. I’m busy. He tried out each scenario in his head, making sure he was ready for any counter-argument she might make.

 

He shifted inconspicuously. The toy went from level zero to full power in a flash. Perhaps Joker had noticed her flirting. Bruce could only hope that wasn’t the case. Who knew what the fucking clown would do to her if he found out?

 

“Meeting adjourned.”

 

The corporate big-wigs all left the room, Bruce one of them. People were talking about what to do now that they had secured another few million dollars. Bruce did his best not to be noticed, even though it wasn’t possible given who he was. Even among the rich and famous, he was often the topic of discussion.

 

“Brucey!” a voice cried out from the hallway.

 

Bruce froze. No. No no no. What the hell was he doing here?

 

His coworkers looked at him quizzically, before turning their attention on the newcomer. Joker’s disguise was incredible. He had applied flesh colored foundation on every trace of exposed skin, making sure it blended naturally enough to be convincing. Although his hair had been dyed black, he had decided to keep it in the same style as usual. Instead of his purple coat and clown bowtie, he wore a green suit and a necklace. The eyes and the smile were exactly the same.

 

Joker ran up to grip in him in a crushing hug. Mr. McCullen shot Bruce a harsh look.

 

“Is this a friend of yours, Mr. Wayne?”

 

Bruce opened his mouth to speak. But the Joker beat him to it.

 

“I’m his boyfriend. Isn’t that right, honey?” he leaned against his shoulder as if they were old buddies. His smile was far too close for Bruce’s liking. It took every ounce of power not to pummel his fist into it.

 

Meanwhile, everyone else was in shock at what they heard. Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy…with a boyfriend? He knew what they all must be thinking. When did Bruce turn to men for his nighttime pleasures?

 

Although the smile remained on Joker’s face, Bruce could clearly see the danger lying underneath. He knew he had to play along, especially with Alfred at his mercy. He did his best to look comfortable under the clown’s touch.

 

“I wasn’t expecting him to show up here. Everyone, I’d like you to meet my new boyfriend.”

 

He wanted to wash his mouth out with soap after saying that. Not because he was disgusted at the thought of homosexuality. He was disgusted at the thought of dating Joker, the man who killed hundreds. The man who…had raped him.

 

The eyes around him grew wide. Mr. McCullen was the first to find his voice. He cleared his throat.

 

“This certainly is a surprise. I’m honored to meet you, Mr….?”

 

“Jack Napier. My friends call me Jack.”

 

“Mr. Napier then.”

 

Joker shrugged it off. His eyes landed on Samantha and Bruce was almost sure he heard a growl coming from his throat. Bruce knew he had to divert his attention away from her.

 

“Well, Jack. Let’s go home.”

 

For a second, he wondered if the clown would argue. But fortune decided to smile upon him for once, because Joker did what Bruce wanted. With his arm still slung around Bruce, Joker led them both out of the building, where Bruce’s Camaro waited. Joker looked at him expectedly, as if wondering what he’d do next.

 

Bruce opened the passenger door for him.

 

“Such a gentleman,” Joker remarked as he stepped inside.

 

Bruce had to brace himself before getting behind the wheel. Joker continued to smile, oblivious to the stares from a few passersbys. Bruce kept his face friendly, while his voice grew raw and angry.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Joker brushed his fingers through the hair right above Bruce’s ear.

 

“I wanted to personally ask how you’re enjoying your new toy.”

 

“I swear. I’m gonna kill you.”

 

“Lying’s my forte, Bats,” the hand traced Bruce’s bottom lip. The dark knight didn’t react to it. He continued to give Joker a pleasant look just to fool the onlookers. It wasn’t easy when all he wanted to do was tear the clown’s teeth out, “I have a surprise for you when we get home.”

 

“Home?”

 

“The Wayne Manor, silly! It’s our home, after all.”

 

You’re not moving in, you fuck. Bruce wanted to say. As soon as he found out how to save Alfred, Joker would regret everything he had ever done. Bruce gripped the wheel so tightly that his palms turned white.

 

“You put something in my house?”

 

“Our house, sweetie. And don’t worry. You’ll just love it. Just like you loved your last present.”

 

Said present was still buzzing inside his ass. Bruce was going to yank the toy out once they arrived at their destination and throw it into the fireplace. If he hadn’t suppressed the unwanted pleasure this whole time, he would’ve had a hard-on an hour ago. It wasn’t exactly professional to go into work like that. He was disgusted with himself. Sex toy or not, Joker should be the last person to make him feel this way.

 

Suddenly, Joker’s face was mere centimeters away from his. Bruce pulled away until the back of his head hit the window. Joker continued to lean in, until he was straddling over Bruce like they were on a lover’s couch. Hands pressing against Bruce’s chest, Joker used the billionaire’s weight to support his own. It wasn’t that the Joker was heavy, more that he was solid. Unlike Bruce, his muscles were hidden underneath his slender figure, yet still prominent enough to be a threat. He would never overpower Bruce in a fair fight. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous physically.

 

Bruce couldn’t hide his shock.

 

“Not…here….” The people watching were pulling out their phones. Humiliation flooded across his face. Once this got out to his friends and family, he could never face them again.

 

Joker pressed his lips smack across his. His tongue probed inside, begging entrance. Bruce thought about biting him, but he quickly realized it would’ve done more harm than good. Joker hadn’t cared the last time he had done that. Plus, he didn’t want to risk angering the clown in a way that would hurt Alfred. Joker made a happy noise when he entered unopposed. He didn’t waste his victory. The revolting tongue explored every inch of Bruce’s mouth, tasting him like a delicacy from a five-star restaurant.

 

People were recording this. It wouldn’t be long before the whole world found out about Bruce’s new boyfriend. A few minutes at the most. It would only be minutes before his friends and family started to wonder. If they tried to investigate….he couldn’t let that happen. Finally, Joker pulled away. Bruce’s embarrassment caused the clown to smirk.

 

“You’re so cute when you’re shy. I wish I had a camera. But I guess everyone else already took care of that for me, right baby boy?”

 

Before Bruce could get onto him, there was a knock on his window side. He closed his eyes and mentally counted down from three, then turned to stare into Gordon’s disapproving face. Bruce rolled down the window.

 

“Can I help you, inspector?”

 

“Mr. Wayne. Please don’t take this the wrong way. But you two are practically humping each other in public. I need you to tone it down please.”

 

What Bruce wouldn’t give for someone to just shoot him at that moment. He heard the Joker chuckling behind him.

 

 

Joker’s ‘gift’ turned out to be a fucking machine that was stationed in the downstairs basement. And of course, as soon as Bruce saw it, Joker demanded that he strip so that he could use it right away. The machine came with its own straps to keep Bruce subdued while he was forced to lie on top of it. Like the toy, this machine came with different settings that the Joker could experiment with.

 

First, the fucking machine ran on the lowest setting, which was at a snail’s pace. It went all the way inside, burying into Bruce with all of its ten inches. Bruce tensed every time it breached his insides, a burning pain shooting through his ass as it did so. Joker stood over him and watched, amused at how the machine affected the bat. The green eyes examined every bit of Bruce’s face, taking in his facial expression with an evil smile. After a while, the machine sped up considerably. The pounding was unrelenting. Bruce endured all the pain mixed with unwanted pleasure. One of Joker’s hands cupped the bat’s limp member, stroking it while Bruce’s ass was being tormented.

 

“Still trying to hold in those moans? Keep that up, and I’ll have to punish you.”

 

“Fuck off!”

 

Joker slapped him across the cheek hard. However, it was clear that he wasn’t actually angry. He was excited instead, “Shut your slutty mouth, baby bat. Or I’ll find something to stuff inside it.”

 

The hand on his cock yanked, barely gentle enough to keep from hurting. Bruce winced. Fuck. Like before, his member was hardening against his will. As much as he loathed to admit it, his body was a simple tool in the clown’s hands. And this time he couldn’t use mere willpower to stay placid.

 

“Good boy,” Joker cooed, stroking the hardening length appreciatively. He leaned his head in and planted his lips against Bruce’s temple. His free hand must’ve pressed a button, for the machine went even faster.

 

“Argh!” The machine had stamina that no living, breathing person could match. It continued to pound at the same fast pace without getting tired. Slapping sounds echoed through the room, as well as a few grunts that Bruce wasn’t able to suppress.

 

His erection bobbed under the Joker’s hand. Bruce felt little more than a bundle of nerves under his enemy’s touch. He arched his back as far as he could, feeling like white hot wires were coiling underneath his abdomen. His member filled itself with fresh precum.

 

“You look gorgeous. My little pet is having so much fun with his new toy. It almost brings a tear to my eye.”

 

Bruce squirmed and bared his teeth. Thoughts of Alfred kept him from struggling too much. In all honesty, he could escape this if he wanted to. But the last thing he needed was to make the Joker angry. All it would take would be one phone call to get Alfred hurt.

 

If only Bruce knew where Alfred was, then he could end this nightmare. He could save him before an hour could pass. But looking for him would take too long. Even if he did knock the Joker unconscious, Alfred would still be in danger.

 

Suddenly, Joker let go of his hold on Bruce’s cock. But Bruce didn’t have long to feel relieved. He heard the sound of another button being pressed.

 

The machine lowered like an elevator, until Bruce had to look up to meet the clown’s eyes. Joker pulled down his pants and exposed his bleached erection. He began stroking it like he did for Bruce just seconds ago. He was aiming to release his seed onto Bruce’s bare stomach. Blood rushed to Bruce’s ears when he thought of how all this looked. If someone had a camera now, not even Batman would have the courage to watch the recording. He was ashamed of himself for ever getting hard, even if it hadn’t been his fault.

 

“Don’t mind me, darling. I can’t help myself when you’re like this. Speaking of how beautiful you are, how many sites do you think are showing us making out? By now it should be all over the internet. Do you suppose your boys are curious about who this sexy Jack Napier is?”

 

“Don’t go near them,” Bruce kept his voice pleading, not angry. Yet it didn’t seem to help, if Joker’s scowl was anything to go by.

 

“You always did like keeping your precious birdies close. I don’t think you realize how much that pissed me off. We had a good thing going before the first Boy Wonder showed up. Sometimes I wondered if you were trying to make me jealous. There were times I wondered if you two were sharing something special, something like this,” he gestured to his own erection.

 

This time Bruce couldn’t hide his rage, “You think I’d ever do that to—”

 

“—It crossed my mind. That’s why I really wanted to kill them all.”

 

“You’re sick. They’re my sons.”

 

Another slap came barreling across his face, this time harder than the last one. The machine was starting to send him over the edge. His cock wept for a merciful release.

 

“Don’t you ever call them that again.”

 

“What?” moaned Bruce. Joker turned the machine on the highest setting. Bruce bit his lip to keep from making a sound, but in doing so tore through the skin. A small trail or blood started to drip from his mouth.

 

Joker lapped it up in a matter of seconds. He shuddered and closed his eyes in bliss. After that moment of awkwardness, Joker locked eyes on him again.

 

“Don’t talk about sons. That makes them sound special. No, Bats. What they all really are is a bunch of freeloaders that want to play hero. And you let them because they’re poor little orphans. For a second, I was wondering if I wanted to adopt them, since we’re going to be lovers and all,” he ignored the shudder of disgust that went down Bruce’s spine, “But now I’m thinking---nah! I’m not the parenting type. Besides, I want your love all to myself. I’m not going to share it with some snot-nosed punks. When we get married and have our big wedding, you’ll have to disown all of them for me.”

 

Bruce remained silent, despite the overwhelming desire to chew Joker out for his remarks. The machine continuously thrusted in his most sensitive spot. Stars erupted his vision with every pound. His cock, now hard as a rock, bobbed up and down from the impact against his ass.

 

Smirking, Joker withdrew his hands from Bruce completely, so that he could focus on his own aching member. He stroked his shaft right in front of Bruce’s face, while the fucking machine did most of the work. Bruce closed his eyes. Maybe he could pretend he was somewhere else?

 

“Beautiful. You’re simply gorgeous.”

 

Well, that would be hard if Joker kept making comments like that. The lust in the clown’s voice made him sick to his stomach. Bruce opened his eyes back up.

 

And despite everything (feeling objectified, disgusted and oh-so angry) Bruce’s body became traitor. It responded naturally to the stimulations it was receiving. Joker probably thought that meant he was enjoying himself, which only made the situation a thousand times worse. There would be no convincing the asshole that Bruce didn’t really want this.

 

Bruce was getting close. And if the swelling of Joker’s cock was anything to go by, he was too. Joker’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. A second later, his hot seed splattered on the bridge of Bruce’s nose. Bruce couldn’t prevent the noise of disgust that came out of his mouth.

 

The machine slapped and slapped and slapped. His body couldn’t take much more. Bruce decided to allow himself to orgasm. That way, at least this nightmare would end sooner rather than later. A white-hot flash surged through his body as he came. He was left a sputtering mess even as the machine continued its assault.

 

Joker laughed.

 

“I knew you’d like it. Isn’t this toy the best? Don’t worry. You’ll get to play with it some more later. But for now….” He turned it off. Bruce slowly allowed himself to relax. He didn’t look the clown in the eye as he was released from his restraints. As soon as he could, he wiped the disgusting substance off his face.

 

Joker gave him a look and pouted, “Aww. You should’ve left it on a little bit longer. It made you look like the perfect little slut. Oh well,” he shrugged, “Show me your favorite place to bathe.”

 

Bruce froze, “Why?”

 

“So, I can bathe you, you silly, sexy man!”

 

There had to be a way out of this one.

 

“You sure you want to do that? It might…” he swallowed the bile rising to his throat, “It might wash your scent off me.”

 

Joker’s eyes flashed as if the thought just now dawned on him, “You bring up a good point. I know you’re just saying that to change my mind, but it’s still a good point. But…heehee. I can always make you smell like me again. What can I say? I like the thought of giving you a bath too much to let it go.”

 

All Bruce wanted was to get back into his clothes, to stop Joker from leering at him. He wanted to put on as many layers of clothing as humanly possible, so that the Joker wouldn’t see an inch of skin. He made a grab for the clothes that he had discarded carelessly on the floor, but Joker smacked his hand away.

 

“You don’t need those where we’re going.”

 

Bruce gave him a look cold enough to send a chill down Mr. Freeze’s spine. For Alfred he would do anything. He walked out of the room, with Joker tailing right behind him.

 

“It’s the one next to my room,” he ignored how Joker was staring at his ass. Joker made some appreciative noises behind him. Bruce curled his hands to tight fists, wishing he could give the clown a well-earned black eye.

 

They arrived a few minutes later. Joker rushed passed him in order to start the bath. He crouched down and turned on the facet. Then he eyed all the bath products scattered throughout the room. He began to dump a few in there like a little kid experimenting: salts, beads and essences. Bruce watched him from afar.

 

“When can I talk to Alfred?” he finally asked.

 

Joker waved a finger at him, beckoning him to come closer. After a moment’s pause, Bruce obeyed the unspoken command. Joker grabbed his hand and thrust in under the running water.

 

“Warm enough?” Joker asked cheerfully.

 

Bruce frowned, “It’s fine. What about Alfred?”

 

“Not too hot for my baby boy? Too cold? Not enough salts? Too much---”

 

Bruce’s forceful grip launched tightly around Joker’s throat. Choking, but clearly more amused than surprised, Joker wiggled out of his grasp.

 

“Easy, darling.”

 

“I’m running out of patience, clown. Tell me what I want to know. Now!”

 

“Did you forget that I’m in control here?” although Joker smiled, his voice was starting to sound angry, “You were behaving so well before. I hate to have to punish you. Should I make the call now? Or are you going to knock me out and let my boys handle it when I don’t make contact?”

 

Bruce bit his bottom lip to keep from saying anything else. Pushing Joker’s buttons any further would be a bad call. Seeing that his point was made, Joker gestured to the bath tub.

 

“As you can see, it’s full now. Get in. Maybe then I’ll forget about the manhandling, hm?”

 

Bruce turned to where he was pointing at. It was the same tub that Bruce had sat in a million times before. But now thanks to the Joker, he knew he would never enjoy the experience of bathing here again.

 

He stepped in one foot at a time. Joker slapped his ass just before Bruce sat down in the tub. Bruce clenched his teeth together, but otherwise said nothing. Once Bruce was inside, Joker grabbed a fistful of shampoo. Then the clown’s fingers began digging into Bruce’s scalp. Bubbles foamed inside his hair, smelling faintly of lavender.

 

Joker took his time to really feel his way through the soft curls. His face lit up in bliss. Meanwhile, Bruce fought the instinctive urge to throw the clown off him. The fingers were far from gentle as they scrubbed through his mane. It was to be expected. Joker liked doing everything rough. What did Harley ever see in him?

 

The clown took the extendable facet off its hinges, then proceeded to shower it over Bruce’s head. Bruce kept his eyes closed, his body tense and his mind hating what was happening. The embarrassment was starting to die down, almost as if Bruce was growing accustomed to this. And that realization was worse than anything.

 

“There. Your hair’s all clean, my little pet. Now let me make a quick phone call. Alfred gets to live happily another hour.”

 

 

When Joker said he had to leave in order to “take care of business,” Bruce knew better than to stop him. He prayed that this nightmare would be over soon.

 

Bruce waited until the clown left before taking a shower. The bath had left him feeling dirtier than before he had stepped in. A shower was exactly what he needed right now. Bruce made sure the bathroom door was locked before stepping inside the stall. He made the water scolding hot and he didn’t stop scrubbing his skin until it was raw and red.

 

Once he was through, he decided to get a wink of sleep. It wasn’t ideal, but he needed to keep his body in some sort of working order to face Joker. One hour was all he needed.

 

He didn’t remember when his face made contact with his pillow, for the next thing he knew, 90 minutes had passed. And the only reason he woke up in the first place was because he heard the doorbell. He got out of bed, happy to have slept with his clothes on. By the way the bell was ringing, it was an emergency.

 

Bruce headed to the front room and opened the door. His eyes widened when he saw that it was none other than Clark Kent, dressed in his usual work clothes and glasses. Clark seemed just as shocked as Bruce felt. He had probably been expecting Alfred to let him in, since that was his job. Bruce did his best to act cool.

 

“Well, this certainly is a surprise.”

 

“Hello, Bruce. May I come in?”

 

It only took half a second for Bruce to find his composure, “Sure.” He backed away to give Clark room.

 

Once he entered inside, Clark’s eyes glowed red. Bruce allowed the alien to use his x-ray vision to scout for any hidden cameras, or whatever the hell he might’ve been looking for. When he was through, Clark turned back to his friend.

 

“So, what can I do for you?” Bruce asked.

 

“Did you get a call from your wards?”

 

Bruce paused, “No.”

 

“From Barbara?”

 

“No,” he withheld a sigh, “What’s this about?”

 

“I’m glad they listened to me. When they saw that video, they all wanted to talk to you. I told them to let me handle it.”

 

And just like that, Bruce felt his blood run cold. Although he knew they would find out sooner or later, his brain had pushed the recording to the bottom of his subconscious, protecting itself from the dread that would follow. But now that he could no longer fool himself, Bruce knew he had to deal with this.

 

The one thought that ran through his head was ‘please don’t let them be involved.’

 

Clark watched his expressions carefully, “It wasn’t your best performance. Your acting can usually fool everyone. This time it only fooled everyone but the people who really know you.”

 

“My acting skills, Clark?” Bruce held an edge to his voice. He wanted him to drop it. But more than that, he wanted Clark to help him. Superman could get to Alfred much faster than Batman could.

 

Dammit. If only Bruce knew where he was.

 

No. He couldn’t ask that of Clark—He couldn’t ask it of anyone. There was far too much at stake.

 

“Bruce, you’re my friend. Even if I was to believe you changed your orientation overnight, it’s obvious that there’s something going on between you and whoever that man was.”

 

“Well, we did kiss,” Bruce mocked without humor.

 

“You know damn well what I mean. I can’t help you if you don’t let me, Bruce. So, swallow your pride and spill.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Bruce knew his playing dumb was only stalling the inevitable. But Joker knew about Batman’s friends in the Justice League. If one suddenly got involved and the clown found out about it, what would happen to Alfred?

 

“I want to know who that man was and what he has on you.”

 

There it was. Now the demands were out in the open, Bruce had to drop the act. Still he was a stubborn man, so instead of answering, he gave Clark a look. Clark returned it with a challenging gaze of his own. For a few seconds they tried to stare each other down, only being interrupted by the Jok--- by Jack coming inside.

 

The disguised clown frowned at Clark as soon as he saw him. Evidently the clown was shocked to see someone else there. The silence that followed lasted only half a second, before Joker recovered enough to give Clark a friendly smile.

 

“Sweetheart, who’s this?”

 

Clark spoke up before Bruce could even open his mouth, “Hello. Clark Kent from the Daily Planet in Metropolis. I’m friends with Bruce.”

 

He shook Joker’s hand. This time it was Joker’s turn to look disgusted at an unwanted touch. Joker shot a dirty look at Bruce while Clark was distracted, a silent promise they would talk about this later.

 

“Charmed. My name’s Jack Napier. Bruce didn’t tell me we would have a guest.”

 

Clark did a double take, “We? You mean you’ve already moved in?”

 

“Something wrong, Mr. Kent?” there was no way that Clark missed the danger in his voice. And yet Clark remained calm, pretending to be ignorant of the warning.

 

“It just seems to be a little fast.”

 

Joker smiled. He let go of Clark’s hand, then rushed over to hug Bruce tightly. The billionaire returned the embrace with a faux smile.

 

Joker said, “It may seem that way. But actually, Brucey and I were dating in secret long before that video got out. Bruce felt embarrassed about me. In the end, he decided that it didn’t matter what the public thought. I’m proud of him for coming out and admitting his love for me.”

 

The two heroes exchanged glances. Very clearly, Clark wasn’t buying any of this. Joker grew even more daring when he saw the lack of effect his words had. He cupped Bruce’s left butt-cheek and squeezed it for good measure, while keeping his eyes locked onto Clark’s. The point had been made. Joker was marking his territory. He was jealous and clearly viewed Clark as some sort of rival when it came to Bruce.

 

Bruce didn’t know which to be more embarrassed by: the fact that Joker copped a feel in front of Superman, or the fact that he thought Bruce might’ve been sexually involved with his friend. Clark adjusted his glasses. If he was embarrassed for Bruce, he didn’t show it.

 

“Well. I wish you both the best. Sorry to cut this visit so short, Bruce. But I need to get going.”

 

“So soon?” Joker asked innocently. However, his attention was no longer on Clark himself, but on Bruce. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, then nuzzled their heads together. Bruce stood stiffly, unsure of how Joker wanted to act. Fortunately, Clark saved him from making a decision. He opened the door.

 

“I’ll see you later, Bruce,” for anyone else, that would just be a friendly way to leave. But Bruce knew that Clark meant it. They would see each other again, and very soon. And no doubt Clark’s interrogation would be much more intense.

 

After he left, Joker said, “Who was that loser?”

 

Clark was probably still listening with his super hearing. Not that the clown would know that.

 

“A friend. And no. He has no idea who I really am.”

 

“Good,” purred Joker, “I have something for you. If you behave that is.”

 

“I want to speak to Alfred,” Bruce stated. Clark surely heard that. Now Clark knew what power Joker had over him. A second later, a window revealed Superman flying into the distant sky. Very reckless of him. But at least the Joker hadn’t seen. He was too busy digging his nose into the crook of Bruce’s neck, sniffing it like it was a drug.

 

“That’s what you’ll get. If you behave.”

 

A bubble of hope grew inside his chest. If he could just talk to Alfred, then maybe—just maybe—he might find out where he was.

 

“Define behave.”

 

“Oh, you know. Do what I want when I want it. Also, no more manhandling. And I think you’re going to get the urge to do that in a second.”

 

Dread dropped to the pit of his stomach. Bruce’s icy gaze glared at the top of the green hair. His hands formed to fists by his sides.

 

“What did you do?”

 

Joker withdrew just enough to dig inside his own back pocket. He pulled out a few locks of hair that belonged neither to him nor to Bruce. The dark knight stared, trying to puzzle what the clown was getting at. Joker chuckled.

 

“I had a little talk with your good friend, Samantha Wheeler,” he said, as Bruce tensed up in horror, “She was a jealous cunt. She told me my hair was too ugly to be seen with you. So I told her I’d cut a piece of hers and have you compare. What a conceited bitch she was.”

 

“Was?” Bruce’s voice grew steadily louder.

 

“Was. Past tense. That’s what you use when someone’s dead, right? Now now!” he raised a finger just when Bruce was about to attack. The smile on his face taunted the hero, “Don’t lost your temper. Or you’ll lose your phone call with Alfie.”

 

His fists shook, itching to wring Joker’s neck. He swallowed the screams that threatened to burst out of his lungs. The bat inside wanted to punish, to seek justice, to stop Joker from hurting anyone else. It was a desire so engrained in his nature that it was almost natural.

 

And yet, for Alfred, Bruce suppressed it.

 

“So, we’re going to be nice, after all? Good! Now, Batsy. I consider myself a simple man. When I get home from a hard day’s work and see my little boy with someone else, I get angry. I wanna make sure Mr. Can’t means nothing to you. Prove that to me, and you’ll get your phone call.”

 

Bruce stayed silent. He knew what the clown wanted. And Bruce needed that call like he needed air. He would do anything for it, even if it meant making out with the man he hated most of all.

 

He returned the hug, closed his eyes and kissed Joker. In his head, he apologized a thousand times to Samantha. This truly was like a final nail in her coffin.

 

The clown hummed in satisfaction. It was the first time that Bruce initiated the kiss and it clearly had an effect. Batman could feel the Joker’s hardness pressing against him.

 

Joker pushed forward while the billionaire stepped backwards. Bruce let him lead them to the nearest chair. As Bruce fell into it, Joker sat on top of him. The kiss never broke once during the move. Once he was seated comfortably on Bruce’s lap, Joker dominated the kiss. Then he pulled away so that he could focus on Bruce’s neck. Joker kissed and bit every inch of skin he could.

 

Bruce kept his eyes closed. He could almost imagine one of his many lovers doing this right now. The teeth scraped hard enough to give Joker a tiny taste of blood. Joker’s tongue rubbed the wound almost apologetically. He kept it up until he deemed the hickey large enough, then he pulled away.

 

“Good boy. Such a good boy,” he whispered. The clown slid off him, keeping his hand pressed against Bruce, a silent gesture for him to stay in his seat. Joker kneeled on the floor in between Bruce’s legs, fiddling with the buckle of his pants.

 

Joker opened them up, and since he had insisted that Bruce stop wearing underwear, the clown was soon faced with a soft but impressive sized cock. Bruce shuddered when Joker’s hot breath blew on his member. Joker licked the shaft with a flick of his tongue, clearly testing the waters. He looked up at Bruce until their eyes made contact.

 

“Look, Bats. It’s real simple. I’m going to be doing most of the work. All you have to do is let me know what a good job I’m doing. Then you’ll get your phone call.”

 

Bruce frowned, “You want me to praise you during it?”

 

“They don’t call you the world’s greatest detective for nothing.”

 

Bruce wondered just how convincing he would have to sound in order to make Joker happy. Clearly, he was going to be disgusted throughout the whole ordeal. But Joker wanted him to act like he was loving it. Although it was true that Bruce could act, it was another thing entirely to fool the Joker, a liar in his own right.

 

Because the Joker would only ask this of Bruce if he wanted to feel his actions were appreciated. So Bruce had to do his best.

 

“We understand each other?” Joker asked softly.

 

Bruce meant to reply with just as much gentleness. But what the clown got instead was a hard, “Yes.”

 

Thankfully, Joker was amused instead of angry.

 

“Ooh! I can’t wait, Batsy. This is my first time doing this, so make sure you keep encouraging me.”

 

Joker cupped Bruce’s balls with one hand, trying to experiment with them, trying to see what would spark interest. Bruce sat waiting for the moment when Joker wanted him to say something. He let out a moan when he felt Joker’s lips pressed against the tip.

 

“Ah. Yes, like that. Good,” Bruce muttered. Joker hummed with the cock still in his mouth, sending small vibrations through it. Oddly enough, it seemed that the Joker had been telling the truth for once. He was clearly not experienced in this sort of thing, and was instead doing what he’d probably seen in porn. Right now, it just felt to Bruce like a mash of tongue and lips, without any of the pleasure to go with it. Joker even bobbed his head up and down. Still Bruce remained limp.

 

The clown was getting upset. Bruce tried his best to keep him happy, “You’re doing good. So good. I….”

 

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Joker’s mood was foul. He withdrew from the cock, still on his knees, but now glaring at Bruce like this was all his fault, “I’m here trying to give us both a beautiful experience, and you’re being a fucking bitch. I bet you’re spoiled from all those pretty whores who blow for money. Well let me tell you something, Bats. If you keep going like this, you can say goodbye to your phone call.”

 

The times Bruce had unwillingly gotten hard before was because Bruce was had actually been pleasured against his will. This time was different. Now instead of fighting off an erection, he had to supply it on demand.

 

Bruce thought about Selina, Diana and even Vickey Vale. He thought about one of those beauties on their knees, with their boobs fully exposed and a smile on their face. He closed his eyes and sighed. He could do this.

 

“Just give me another chance. I wasn’t ready before. I’m ready now.”

 

Joker frowned at him. And yet Bruce’s plea was enough to get him to try again. He took the cock in his mouth once more. Bruce imagined him as someone else, and lo and behold, his member began to stiffen. Encouraged, the clown sucked eagerly. It was amateur. Bruce imagined that Selina had just admitted she had never done this before. And that she was the one who was doing this right now. The image was both cute and sexy, so Bruce grew even harder. He grabbed a fistful of green hair as the clown underneath him grew more confident in his abilities.

 

“Keep going. Please, Daddy! I need you to keep going. You’re doing great. Your tongue feels so good I can barely hold it together.”

 

Joker trailed down his shaft, sucked once, then trailed back up. Bruce kept his eyes closed, knowing who was really behind it, but managing to convince a small part of his brain that it was someone else. His cock swelled up with need.

 

They lasted a few minutes. Bruce’s praises spilled from his mouth, alongside the moans that revealed he was finally receiving pleasure from this. Then Bruce came. His vision blurred for half a second, while the clown drank him dry. With a wet pop, Joker released his cock. He stood up and adjusted his suit while licking his lips. Bruce met his gaze in an attempt to retain any amount of composure he had left.

 

“The phone call.”

 

He swore that he would rip Joker’s dick off if the clown went back on his word. The clown hesitated.

 

“Well…I guess you earned yourself a ten-minute-call,” he tsked when he saw the scowl on Bruce’s face, “Now don’t go giving me one of your bat-glares. You’ve got to admit that you weren’t very convincing at first. I can’t help it if my poor feelings got hurt because of that. But you did end up doing better. Be grateful you’re getting a call at all.”

 

After saying this, Joker took out his phone. He pressed it to his ear.

 

“Let me talk to the old man,” a pause, “Hey, Alfie! I hope my men are treating you well,” another pause, “Well there’s no reason to call me names, old man. I have a surprise for you. Batsy wants to talk to you. He’s been a good boy, so he’s earned this.”

 

Joker offered the phone. The sounds of Alfred’s confusion were evident. Ten minutes was not a lot to go on, but rather than argue, Bruce decided to take what he could get. He zipped his pants back up and took the phone from Joker’s hands. His mouth felt dry.

 

“Alfred?”

 

“Bruce! What did that maniac make you do?” Alfred sounded more like a protective father than ever before. Bruce wanted so badly to hug him.

 

Instead he kept his cool. Alfred didn’t need to know that Batman was worried and uncertain, “Nothing that I couldn’t handle. What have they been doing to you?”

 

“Other than force me to sit on this bloody chair for days on end, nothing. They force me to eat and drink, but otherwise they leave me alone. I’ve been blindfolded this entire time and I still have no idea where I am.”

 

Bruce frowned. Joker and his henchmen were listening. And even if they spoke in their made-up code, how would Alfred answer any questions he didn’t know? It all seemed hopeless. Suddenly, a noise came from the background.

 

“Blast it all. That goes off every three hours and it drives me insane,” Alfred said.

 

“What is it?” Bruce listened to the tune that sounded like a music box, but louder.

 

“I’m not sure. I think it’s coming from out of the room. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t missing a note.”

 

Bruce felt a sense of hope bubbling inside his chest. This was exactly what he needed. He thanked God or whoever was up there for his ridiculously lucky break.

 

Joker stared at him and arched an eyebrow. Bruce kept his face defeated, trying to ward off suspicion. Alfred gave him one more piece of information that made Bruce want to kiss him.

 

“I asked the blokes what it was, but they wouldn’t tell me. They did, however, graciously informed me that they can’t shut it off. Lord knows why.”

 

A tune with a missing key…that couldn’t be shut off. It wasn’t much, but it just might be enough to go on. Joker frowned at him. Bruce paused. Did he accidentally reveal something on his face?

 

He got what he wanted. Bruce now had to act like he was merely happy to hear Alfred’s voice, nothing more.

 

“I’m glad they’re not hurting you. I’d break all their bones if they were,” from afar he heard Joker chuckling, “We still have nine minutes left. Talk to me. Tell me a story or something. I just want to hear your voice for a little bit.”

 

As opposed to the clown’s fucking voice, he thought to himself.

 

 

As soon as Joker left, and that Bruce had made sure he was in fact gone, Bruce made a phone call. Clark answered after the first ring.

 

“Bruce.”

 

“Clark. I’m heading to the Batcave and I’m going to look for a location. I need you there.”

 

“What?”

 

“I didn’t know where Alfred was before, Clark. But I’m about to find out. That man who used him against me, Jack Napier…” Bruce sighed, “Is really the Joker in disguise.”

 

The silence that followed lasted so long, Bruce wondered if he had been cut off. Just before he asked if Clark was still there, the other man spoke.

 

“The Joker,” he repeated. His tone was deadly, and Bruce could practically imagine lasers coming out of his eyes. Bruce put the phone on speaker, then placed it on top of the main computer. He typed away at the keyboard. His music lessons were a little rusty, but he knew the basic structure of a tune. He typed it out from memory. A C note here, a B sharp there. The computer was able to play it back.

 

“What’s that?” Clark asked when he heard the music.

 

The database on the batcomputer was like nothing else on the planet. Soon Bruce could not only reproduce the tune, he could also search its relevance. It had apparently been written for a psychic machine that was used in amusement parks. It went out of distribution in 1999.

 

It was an older model. No doubt the amusement park was older too. But there was nothing like that in Gotham. According to his search, the surrounding area held five places that Alfred could be at, all too far apart to set him at ease.

 

It wasn’t enough. He searched some more.

 

“Bruce!”

 

“I’m here, Clark. The music you heard is our key to finding Alfred.”

 

“I hear you typing away. What do you got?”

 

“Working on it.”

 

He scrounged up any info on the psychic machines, particularly searching for anything regarding a broken one. He came across it in mere moments. A town far from the coast called Wavemeet had an amusement park called Wavemeet Funstreet. It was a small city and the owner wanted to cut expenses during development. So he bought faulty parts, including a psychic machine with a missing note.

 

That had to be it! That had to be where Alfred was. It would take a three-hour drive to get there. But for Superman it would be no time at all.

 

Bruce rather suck in his pride and ask for help, than let Alfred get hurt. He told Clark what he found out.

 

“But do not let them see you. They will hurt Alfred if they do. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can.”

 

“Bruce,” there was concern in Clark’s voice, “About what the Joker might’ve done to you these past few weeks. You know you can always tell me what---”

 

“Get over there, Clark!”

 

 

Batman parked some yards away from his destination. He was careful to make sure the vehicle was good and camouflaged underneath the foliage. A combination of the night and the environment could sometimes make for the best disguises.

 

He treaded the rest of the way on foot. All was silent. His tracking gear noted there were several men that had been knocked unconscious. Beside each of them was a gun. Every weapon had been bent in half, making them useless for combat.

 

Clark had snuck in, then he probably used his super speed to knock them all out before they could alert each other.

 

So where was Clark now? And more importantly, where was Alfred?

 

He would have to continue the search himself. Thanks to his friend, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with any of Joker’s men while he wandered the place. Batman walked past stands with torn up merchandise. The people who owned this hadn’t bothered to clean up.

 

As he wandered deeper into the park, a loud sound set him on the alert. It was the music from the psychic machine. Batman used his detective mode to look through a giant pile of rubble. A nearby building had collapsed on top of another. The debris covered the smaller building, making it impossible to get inside. That was why they hadn’t been able to unplug the machine.

 

If he could hear it from here, then that meant Batman was close. His heart pounded inside his chest, as he repeated in his head “please let him be okay.”

 

Another sound blasted through the park. This time it came from the overhead speakers.

 

“Hello hello,” it was Joker’s voice, “I’d like to report a lost pet. He’s a bat about 6 feet tall, a beautiful chin, husky voice and he is always brooding. If found, please return to Joker. Or I have an alien and an old man here that I can take my frustrations out on.”

 

Batman’s heart stopped. How the hell did Joker defeat Superman? Did he somehow guess the Justice League would be involved and prepared for it?

 

“Batsy. I know you’re out there,” Joker purred. His voice seeped with both lust and anger, “Meet me at the Ferris wheel. We can talk more there.”

 

Batman looked at where the tallest ride was standing. It lit up just as he turned to it, erupting into a rainbow of colors. The music that accompanied it reminded Batman of a haunted attraction.

 

His concern for his friends made him hurry over there. When he got to the grounds, the first thing he saw was Superman lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Joker was staring him down from one of the trolleys on the ride. He had a gun pointed to Alfred, who had been forced to sit right next to the clown.

 

Batman rushed toward Superman to find out what was wrong with him. A bullet had gone through his heart. Normally that wouldn’t do anything. But thanks to Batman’s gear, he could see that the bullet was molded out of pure kryptonite. The fucking clown had been counting on this all along.

 

Batman didn’t know why he was surprised. Joker wouldn’t let anyone spoil his fun, lest of all the Justice League. He’d probably figured Batman would call for help sooner or later.

 

“Don’t die,” Batman commanded gently.

 

Despite obviously being in pain, Superman managed a smile, “You always were so caring.”

 

“I mean it. I’m getting us out of here.”

 

“Hurry,” that was a plea in Superman’s voice. Not a good sign.

 

“Bats! Pay attention to me!!!” Joker screamed. He waved the gun right in Alfred’s face. Though the old man wasn’t afraid, it was clear that he was a bit concerned.

 

Batman gritted his teeth and shook his fists by his sides. Enough was enough. Tonight they would finish this once and for all.

 

“Let him go.”

 

“Hmm. Now why would I do that? Tut tut! Don’t come any closer or he’s dead!” Joker pressed the barrel against Alfred’s temple. Batman stopped in his tracks, “Good boy. Now it’s time for you to choose your punishment.”

 

Batman didn’t like the sound of that. The Joker continued.

 

“Either you use one of your nifty gadgets to cut the bullet out of Superman’s heart, causing me to pull the trigger here,” he gestured to Alfred, “Or you come over here and save Alfred. And while you’re doing that, I have another kryptonite bullet to finish the job.”

 

“It’s me you want. Let them go,” Batman demanded. Joker’s eyes flashed in rage.

 

“Don’t you get it?! This is your punishment! You choose one or the other to live. I’m getting you back either way, so I couldn’t care less which one you pick. And once we get back home, you and I are gonna have a long talk about your behavior, young man. Daddy’s very angry with you.”

 

It was the final straw. Batman couldn’t let either one of them die. He couldn’t have their blood on his hands. There would be no compromising with Joker this time.

 

If he could get to Joker before he shot Clark, then he could save both.

 

He had to risk it.

 

Batman ran straight at the trolley, his feet going faster than ever before…..


	2. Good Ending

A month after the event and Bruce still woke up each morning in a cold sweat. Although he had recovered mentally, the past torment still nudged the back of his mind. He shuddered at the very thought of the clown’s touch.

 

But that was all in the past. And it would never happen again. Ever.

 

He recollected himself, got dressed, and walked downstairs. Dick was already in the kitchen with Barbara close by. They were helping Alfred out with breakfast. Alfred offered Bruce a warm smile.

 

“It’s been very nice to have the whole family here again, sir,” he said.

 

Although Bruce wouldn’t admit it out loud, he agreed. It felt….nice. Dick, Tim and Barbara all insisted on spending the past few weeks with him. Bruce still protected Gotham by himself, insisting that no one else got in the way. And he was a little peeved that they treated him a little more gently than before.

 

But still, it was nice to have the whole crew at home when he returned. Dick turned to him, waving a frying pan.

 

“Thanks to Alfred. I now know how to crack a few eggs. Did you know Barbara can’t cook either? Guess Alfred’s the only one who’s got the talent.”

 

Bruce didn’t smile, but he certainly wasn’t scowling either. The family felt relieved whenever he was relaxed. Bruce’s voice was soft and almost—almost—lighthearted enough to be considered joking.

 

“What are you saying, Dick? I’ve cooked for you before. You would call me a good cook, won’t you?”

 

Dick’s eyes went wide. Barbara cracked up laughing at the horrified expression on his face. Bruce merely rolled his eyes, not in the least bit offended. He might not be the best cook in the world, but he didn’t think he deserved that reaction.

 

…It was so good to have these tender banters again.

 

“Breakfast won’t be ready for a while, sir. Perhaps you should relax?”

 

“Sure, Alfred,” Bruce began walking away. Barbara spoke up. She looked ready to use her wheelchair to block his path.

 

“Um…Bruce? That way’s the Batcave.”

 

Alfred frowned at his employer. The tension in the air grew thick, as an unnerving silence followed Barbara’s statement. Dick set the frying pan on the counter.

 

“Let me come with you.”

 

“No, Dick. I can do it myself.”

 

“But—”

 

“Master Richard,” Alfred cut him off. Dick frowned, looking ready to argue further. But he didn’t. Dick knew how much Bruce valued feeling independent and in control. Bruce was grateful that he let the matter drop.

 

He had the best family in the world. That was the glue that held his sanity together. Without them there wouldn’t be a Bruce Wayne. Bruce knew that they wanted to do so much more for him after what had happened. But little did they know, their emotional support was enough to keep Batman going.

 

Bruce braced himself every step of the way. Once he was inside the Batcave, he turned the corner. A cell of his own creation stared him in the face. Joker had his back to him, strapped in the Kelvar straitjacket. Bruce wasn’t nearly as nice as Arkham; the straitjacket hadn’t come off since Joker’s capture. Even after everything he done to him, he rather the clown be uncomfortable, than dead.

 

Joker turned to him, but he didn’t so much as look at him as he did through him. It was a look of defeat that had never crossed the clown’s face before. Joker knew there would be no way to escape this prison. Bruce would spend the rest of his life keeping him away from innocent people.

 

And away from him.

 

Joker would’ve said something if it wasn’t for the contraption strapped over his open jaw. Bruce gave him nothing more than a passing glance, before pressing the button. Liquid food filled the Joker’s mouth. His muffled screams could be heard through the gag: it sounded of despair, yearning, and anger.

 

The screams grew louder when Bruce walked away. Bruce managed a small smile. Joker knew he could never touch him again and that was driving him nuts. A rather sadistic part of Bruce was glad of this too. Joker didn’t deserve to get better mentally. He should deal with his demons until the end of time.

 

 An hour later Tim was up just in time for breakfast. While everyone was at the table, Bruce noted the concern in his family’s eyes. He felt more touched than annoyed, shockingly enough. The television above them showed the news. Metropolis had been saved yet again by their Man of Steel.

 

“It seems Mr. Kent really has made a full recovery,” Alfred glanced at Bruce, “I was worried when he said he was alright, it was just an attempt at bravado.”

 

Taking the hint, Bruce set his fork down on his plate with a thud. The family tensed up when he sighed. It was time, for once, to be open with them.

 

“Look everyone. I get it, alright? I get you’re worried about me. And to be fair….Maybe I’m not alright now. But I will be. You guys know I can handle these things. It’s embarrassing that Batman’s being coddled like this,” at their disheartened look, Bruce softened up, “But I’m grateful. Just…know that. Know that I will get through this…and that I am grateful.”

 

Tim lit up. Dick looked relieved. Barbara smiled. And Alfred nodded approvingly. Bruce went back to his meal, knowing that his words were true. They were spoken with the most sincerity that Bruce had ever shown. His family got to see a side of him that the Joker never did.

 

His family…For once Bruce didn’t feel so alone.


	3. Bad Ending

Months had passed….

 

But the pain never lessened.

 

Every time Joker showed up to show another piece of someone he loved…someone who used to be alive…Bruce lost more of himself. He didn’t even bother trying to get out of his chains, as he sat naked in the dark room. Alfred, Clark, Dick, Barbara and Tim. They were all gone because he had failed.

 

And damn it all. No matter how many people Joker killed, the clown could always find someone else. Someone’s life to threaten if Bruce ever dared try to cross him again.

 

It all hurt too much. Bruce stayed right where he was like the good prisoner Joker wanted him to be. Joker came into the room with a tray of sandwiches, flashing him one of his many smiles. He hummed and offered it to Bruce. Knowing the drill, and knowing that Joker had ways to force him to eat if he ever refused, Bruce took a bite.

 

“You’ve been very quiet for a long time, sweetheart. I know it hurts, baby. Really, I do. But don’t you see? That was why they made you weak. Caring for that many people doesn’t do anybody any good. I did you a favor, baby boy. I’m the only one you’ll ever need to care about again.”

 

Bruce barely hear him. And he barely tasted the food in his mouth. Once he was through, Joker grabbed the back of his head and pressed their lips together. The clown sighed.

 

“Bruce Wayne disappeared with his boyfriend. They’re saying we eloped in some strange romance scheme. Let them think what they want. I was wrong to try and share our love with the world. From now on, it’s only going to be us, baby. We’re all the other needs. Do you want your toy?”

 

He pulled out the vibrator that he had used countless times before. Without asking for permission, he shoved it deep inside Bruce’s already abused hole. Bruce gritted his teeth at the intrusion. He hated that he was getting used to the feeling.

 

Joker turned it on.

 

“There. You’re feeling better already, aren’t you? Oh, Bats. I cannot tell you how much I love the fuck outta you. I think we should go on a date tonight. I’ll have my men bring some table and chairs. We’ll have some fine dining. I’ll even help you dress your best. Wouldn’t you like that? Oh? Your cock is already hard.”

 

It was true. Perhaps even Bruce’s body knew when it was defeated. It no longer resisted to anything the clown did, even though Bruce’s mind still hated what was going on.

 

Bruce stared into the distance. He tried not to notice the buzzing in his ass or the lips on his neck. Joker was talking to himself now, just like he had been doing these past few days. He might not care if Bruce ever talked again.

 

“Batsy. I was worried, you know? When I found out where you were that day. I would’ve died if you escaped me forever. I simply would’ve. It’s such a good thing that didn’t happen. You slipped up that night. And I got to kill both the old man and superfreak for the price of one.”

 

Bruce shuddered. And yet (somehow…somehow) didn’t have enough in him to get angry. Maybe there was nothing left inside him.

 

Joker’s tone grew dark, “But really…it could’ve gone either way. I was just lucky. It scares me to think of what would happen if you had….oh, but let’s just focus on reality. We have our happy ending, Brucey. Now you and me get to stay with each other for the rest of our lives. Baby boy. I love you so fucking much.”

 

The clown then grabbed Bruce’s cock, while his mouth nibbled hungrily on his neck. Bruce let out a dry sob as the sensations overtook his body.

 

Even if he did escape, he knew he had lost. There was nothing left for him out there. Besides, Bruce deserved this ending. He had failed to save his family and friends.

 

Bruce stared at the wall while Joker continued to pleasure him. The man who was once Batman tried to imagine happier times.

**Author's Note:**

> So I couldn't decide how I wanted to end this. I decided to write two endings and people can choose what they want. There's the good ending for Bruce. And then there's the bad ending. Anyway, thank you for reading. ;)


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